


If You Try Sometimes

by cathybites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-21
Updated: 2011-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 11:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathybites/pseuds/cathybites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam tries to reconnect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Try Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> beta by [](http://loveflyfree.livejournal.com/profile)[**loveflyfree**](http://loveflyfree.livejournal.com/) because she loves me.

Chicago is five hours behind them when Sam turns to Dean and says, "Look, it's not like I don't want to be a family--"

"I got it. Don't need to talk about it." Dean's profile is sharp as he stares out at the road, face set in ice-cold stone as the scenery passes by in a blur.

Sam scowls and opens his mouth, but Dean shoots him a glare, tightens his grip on the steering wheel, and Sam sighs and turns his face to the window. _I'm not the one who sent Dad away_ , he thinks, but he keeps silent and stares out into the dark countryside.

\-----

The sky is a dusty grey when Sam opens his eyes. A slice of sunlight peeks through the mountains, its light just barely creeping into the darkness. Sam stretches as much as he can in his seat, lips smacking as he tries to stifle a yawn. "Time?" he mumbles as he rubs at his face.

"A little after six," Dean says, his voice rough-edged. Whether it's from lack of sleep or something else, Sam isn't sure. "Need me to stop?"

Sam nods and Dean gets off at the next exit. There's a truck stop right off the ramp and they pull into the parking lot. All the lights are still on despite the rising sun, casting a bright white glow against the muted sky. The light washes all the color from Dean's face, leaving him looking paler than Sam had ever seen him before, the cuts on his face almost black in contrast. They both sit in silence for a moment, Sam staring at Dean, Dean staring at nothing. Sam reaches out, tentatively, and manages to get out, "Dean, I--" before Dean is out of the car, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans as he tromps up the pavement towards the store.

With a sigh, Sam gets out and follows him, making a face when he walks into the building to the sound of Celine Dion. He heads to the snack food aisle, trying to ignore the feeling that people are staring at him. It's not until he looks up to see the cashier gawking, her bubblegum-pink mouth wide open in shock, that Sam remembers the state of his own face. He raises a hand quickly to cover the scratches but Dean just claps him on the shoulder and grins at the girl, all signs of tension dissipating under the flourescent lights.

"My little brother here decided to be all manly and get into it with a wildcat last night," he says with a wink, the smooth dark tone to his voice suggesting that there's something more to the story, something probably more than a little raunchy. The girl's eyes widen but she smiles shyly back at Dean, leaning forward on the counter.

"We got washrooms in the back, if you need cleaning up."

"That'd be great, sweetheart," Dean says, giving another wink that sets her blushing. He and Sam head to the back and as they draw nearer to the restrooms, the smile slips from Dean's face. "Get cleaned up and I'll meet you out front," he says, giving Sam a push towards the door.

"Wha--?" Sam turns, stumbling slightly when the pressure of Dean's hand leaves him. "Where are you going?"

Dean ignores him and heads out the front door, stalking past the register where the cashier watches him with curiosity before turning back to Sam. He shrugs and gives her a half-smile before heading into the restroom.

\-----

When he makes it back to the Impala, wounds cleaned and dressed the best he can manage, the sun is rising slowly in the sky and Dean is nowhere in sight. Sam sighs, then sighs again when he tries the car door. Locked. He turns and leans against the door, tilting his head back to stare up at the sky.

There's a pale blue canvas above him, dotted with soft white strands of clouds, and when Sam closes his eyes, he can picture the life he could have had. *Should* have had, a quiet voice whispers inside his head, but he just shakes his head against that thought. No use dwelling - he's learned at least that much over the years.

He opens his eyes to see Dean standing in front of him, odd expression on his face. Something all swirled up with anger and sadness and about a thousand things unsaid between them, and Sam has to look away before it all pours out.

"Got us a room at the motel next door," Dean says, and Sam just nods. A long moment passes before Dean reaches past him to unlock the door. Sam gets in without a word and waits for Dean to start the car.

\-----

Dean flips through the five channels the motel gets, over and over, never stopping for more than a few seconds. The curtains are heavy and drawn tight, with only a sliver of light escaping from beneath them. Other than that and the flashing light from the TV, the room is dark.

Sam watches him with sidelong glances that he's sure Dean notices and chooses to ignore.

The channels keep changing and Dean's face flashes blue, grey, white, then back to blue. Sam knows that he's got to say something now, right now, if they're ever going to get past this and he takes a deep breath. He can see Dean tense up, even though he's sprawled out on the other bed, and before Sam can say anything, Dean pounds a finger into the remote and the TV shuts off. "I'm taking a shower," he says, sliding off the bed.

Sam's off the bed and grabbing a hold of Dean before he can think about what he's doing. "Wait. Can you just wait one minute?"

"Fuck off, Sam," Dean snarls, shaking off Sam's hand but Sam just reaches out with the other one. Dean shoves at him, hard enough that Sam nearly falls over. The anger steamrolls out of Dean; it's in his clenched fists, his strained voice, the way he practically vibrates with it. "You wanna put some distance between us? Fine, I can do that, I'll give that to you."

"That's not what I want," Sam snaps back.

"Then what? Enlighten me, college boy, because it sure as hell sounded to me like you're going to kick off as soon as you can."

"Hey, I wanted to stick together so we can hunt this thing down," he yells, stepping up to Dean and staring down at him. "I wanted Dad to stay and you were the one who sent him packing."

Something in Dean's expression twists and he steps away from Sam. "Fine. Then why don't you go find Dad and you two can be the happy little family together."

"What the fuck, Dean?" Sam feels like he's just been sideswiped with something huge, something at the core of Dean's mood, and he just needs a moment to figure it out. "You said you wanted us to be a family again. You said that's what you wanted."

Dean stares at him, then huffs, shaking his head. He's smiling but Sam can see the frayed edges to it, the way it doesn't reach Dean's eyes. "Sammy..." he starts to say. Then he shakes his head again and goes into the bathroom.

The bathroom door slams shut and there's nothing left for Sam to do but kick his shoes off and crawl into bed.

The click of the door opening wakes him up but he doesn't move, just listens as Dean moves around the motel room. He can hear the rustle of fabric as Dean dresses, the soft thuds of his footsteps as he walks back and forth from his bed to the bathroom. Finally, there's silence, then a sigh. Dean stands behind him and the back of Sam's neck prickles where he's sure Dean is staring at him. Another pause, then Dean's hand is in his hair.

Sam keeps his breathing steady but his heart pounds in his chest so loudly he's sure they can hear it back at the truck stop. Dean doesn't act like he notices, just combs his fingers through Sam's hair once before the mattress dips down and Sam can feel Dean curling up behind him, like they used to when they were younger. Dean's mouth presses against the back of Sam's neck, not so much a kiss as just a connection, the same as Dean's arm that snakes around Sam's waist.

After a long stretch of silence, after Sam is convinced that Dean has fallen asleep, Sam feels him draw in a breath and let it out slowly before pulling Sam closer to him. He can't tell if Dean knows he's faking being asleep or not, and he thinks that it doesn't really matter either way, not when Dean says, "This," the word nothing more than a brush of moist heat against Sam's skin, "this is all I've ever wanted."

Sam waits for Dean to say more, but his breathing evens out, his chest rises and falls slowly against Sam's back.

The light creeping in from under the curtains is stronger now; the highway's close enough that the sounds of traffic can be heard loud and clear. All Sam can hear, though, is Dean's breathing, his heartbeat, his words. He reaches down, clasps Dean's hand with his own, and whispers, "Me too."


End file.
